


A Bet Gone Bad?

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M, coming, handling cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11306592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: The boys begin a betting with a rewards system.





	A Bet Gone Bad?

This Saturday morning I have the leisure of staying in bed late. No working today at the clinic.

I hear Sherlock downstairs and don't feel like facing any of his tantrums.

A quick shower, dressed and down the steps to get some breakfast.

Sherlock is in the kitchen, and he's playing in the sink with some green chemicals.

          "Sherlock, can I get some water for tea?" In my impatient voice.

          "Not a good night last night? Couldn't get a good one off?"

Damn, I'm sick and tired of this! Tired of cleaning up my flatmate's messes. Tired of his sarcasm!

* * *

He comprehends that he's gone too far right now.

          "John, give me a minute, and you can have the kitchen."

He rinses out the sink, and I manage to get water boiling and some toast made.

* * *

Since I can't use the kitchen table because of his test tubes and junk, I head to the sitting room and find my chair loaded with papers.

          "Jesus, Sherlock," yelling into the kitchen where he has again taken up space.

          "Get the fuck in here and get this stuff off my chair."

In he comes, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel which is now stained green.

          "Oh, you are in a bad mood," as he gathers the papers in hand and throws them on the couch.

* * *

I place my tea and toast on the little table next to my chair and sit, but not sure if I'll find something sharp under the cushion.

          "Sherlock, this is it. I can't live like this anymore. You have to clean up," I yell as peeks his head out of the kitchen and stays there. 

          "Get in here and sit down," my temper barely holding on. 

          "Don't leave 221B John," sounding contrite.

          "Damn, I'm not going anyplace. There must be a better way to do this."

          "Can I suggest something?"

I nod as I bring my cup to my lips.

* * *

          "If one of us wants something accomplished how about a reward system when done."

Sipping my tea, I wonder where he's headed with this.

          "Who suggests the reward and what would it be? Go ahead. let's hear this."

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking me in the face, an almost smile on him.

          "If I clean off the kitchen table can I get a hug?"

I nearly drop my teacup. Sherlock, asking for a hug? Impossible!

          "Okay, deal."

Immediately he stands up and runs into the kitchen with a look of glee on his face.  
"Sherlock, what happens if one of us suggests something and the other doesn't want to do it?" I call out to him.

          "I guess we can amend it, if we want?" listening to the banging of glass and who knows what else.

"Sounds good to me. But why would you want to change it?"

* * *

I take up the newspaper and relax. This could be amusing.

* * *

About half an hour later Sherlock walks up to my chair, arms outstretched," the hug."

I stand up and say, "Let me inspect please."

And sure enough, the kitchen table has been cleaned off and scrubbed spotless.

I shrug, walk to Sherlock and go into his arms. I enfold him; He stiffens up at first and then relaxes into it.

          "Feel good?"

          "Hmm," is all he can say, my head resting on his chest. We part, and that's it for the night.

* * *

Days later Sherlock is sitting on the coffee table staring at me in my chair.

"What Sherlock?"

          "John, I have a request to make of you."

I put my laptop on the floor and wait.

          " Can we get rid of some of your jumpers? The ones I don't like you wearing."

I shake my head to each side.

          "I think that's reasonable. Let's see, the reward! Hmm!"

How far can I push this?

          "I want you to clean out the bookcases."

          "No, John, something more personal. That's another task you are setting."

Here goes nothing, as I stare into his eyes.

          "How about a kiss?"

Instantly Sherlock is on his feet,"are you serious? Do you know what you are asking?"

          "Do you refuse?"

He's pacing the room, not looking at me as he gives me a choked answer, "No, I accept."

          "Into my bedroom then," rising and heading up the stairs, Sherlock following.

* * *

My jumpers are looked over by Sherlock, and he throws the hateful ones on the bed. There are about six of them.

          "If you want we can shop for others."

He moves cautiously to me, takes my head in his hands and kisses and I respond back.

The kiss continues with his tongue prodding my lips open and finding the inside, running around my lips and tongue.

I'm hard as a rock and pull him in tight.

* * *

I recognize what is happening and push him away before this gets too far.

He smirks a bit, and I hear him whisper to himself as he leaves the room, "Not gay my ass."

* * *

Days pass, and neither one of us seems willing to continue this game further. 

Until one evening, after a hard chase through the streets of London, we head up the stairs of 221B.

          "John, I feel like having some tea."

          "Damn, Sherlock, I'm just as tired as you are and sick of always making the tea. How about you doing it this time?"

          "Reward?" he asks in his deep baritone voice.

I stepped into this.

          "I know we're tired so can we hold this off until tomorrow?" taking my coat off and hanging mine and Sherlock's on the coat rack.

"I'll wait til tomorrow for the reward," as he sets the kettle on the stove.

Over his shoulder he blurts out," Can I see how you wank off in the morning?"

          "Holy shit! Are you kidding me! What the fuck, Sherlock!"

He pokes his head out,"I wouldn't kid about that and not asking to fuck you. And to throw in something extra, I would watch you during the day also."

I'm hard as a rock right now and need to get upstairs fast.

* * *

Before he changes his mind, I say,"never mind the tea now, but you can make it for me in the morning after you watch me."

He laughs, and I hear him shout as I run up the stairs.

          "You're hard right now. I'm coming up."

And up the stairs, he runs and into my room as I jump on the bed, unzip myself, pull down all clothes in the way and grab my cock.

I look over to see Sherlock standing by the door and his eyes riveted on my movements.

          "Shit, shit," it's beyond breathtaking to have him watching an intimate act like this.

Doesn't take much to have my come all over my palm and fingers.

* * *

Sherlock takes a step into the bedroom and gives me his handkerchief. And he leaves.

I clean up and roll over onto my stomach. I begin to think that "not gay" John is gay. And Sherlock is the man I want to fuck.

* * *

Lying in bed in the morning I ignore my hard member. Don't want Sherlock up here now.

Need time to think. But, as usual, bounding up the stairs, is my flatmate.

          "Sherlock, go away. Enough is enough," turning on my side away from him.

          "John," he whines.

          "No, leave me alone."

I hear him go down the steps and that's when I jump up and shower and dress.

* * *

In the sitting room, Sherlock is on my laptop, again!

I ignore him and make myself some eggs for breakfast and sit at the still clean kitchen table.

* * *

After washing the dishes I get my coat and prepare to head to work. 

Before leaving Sherlock looks up,"John, can we talk a minute?"

          "No, save it for tonight. I have to work you know."

* * *

All day at the clinic my mind wanders to what happened last night and how this 'friendship' is changing. 

And why is Sherlock doing most of the changes?

And why am I allowing it and enjoying it?

* * *

I can't concentrate on my patients, and by early in the afternoon I ask my assistant Sarah to take over my patients. I'm going home.

* * *

Sherlock isn't around, and it gives me breathing room, or so I think. 

When I look at my open laptop, there's a message from my flatmate.

          _John, I'm sorry I upset you. I'd still like to play our little game but maybe set parameters. I'm sure you'll be home early. I'll bring Chinese takeaway._

* * *

Do I want to set limitations? Or see where this takes us?

          "Damn," out loud. Shutting the laptop and standing I pace the limits of the flat.

I see Sherlock in my head, feel Sherlock in my mind. He is everywhere.

* * *

Covering my face with both hands, I hear the door downstairs open and Sherlock's feet bounding up the stairs, two at a time.

          "John," he cries out.

          "Oh, thank goodness you're here!"

          "I told you I would be, you ass."

But say it with a smile.

Coat and scarf thrown off onto the floor, he puts the bag with the food in the frig.

* * *

We sit in our respective chairs, and it's a matter of who will start.

          "Sher, John," we speak at the same moment.

          "Okay, John let me. I overstepped my boundaries yesterday. You determine now what we should have for rewards."

          "After thinking about this, Sherlock, I don't want boundaries. Whatever comes out of our heads, is fine. It's all fine."

Sherlock steeples his hands, eyes boring into mine.

I lean forward in my chair, "I have a request. Stop throwing your coat and other stuff on the floor. There's a perfectly good coat hanger right by the door."

Not moving at all he asks, a mischievous tone to his voice," reward?"

Okay, dumbass, you asked for this, now go for it!

          "Tit for tat. I want to see you wank off."

          "What makes you think I bother with something so commonplace as that?"

          "Oh, damn, you're a man, you have feelings, urges. I know. I hear you in the shower."

* * *

This enticing, stunning man lowers his hands, spreads his legs, and there, in front of me, is a whopping bulge in his trousers.

Oh, God!

He unzips and pushes trousers and pants down to his knees, his erect cock out in full view.

Shifting in the chair, head back, fingers encase his length.

Both hands are traveling up and down, from balls to tip, where his pre-come is leaking out.

Moaning, shaking with a frenzy, he comes into his hands and sinks into the chair.

* * *

My full blown erection is visible. 

Without a thought, I unzip myself, and my fiery eyes are now locked on Sherlocks satiated, now dark blue eyes.

My hands work myself into a frenzy, pulling up and down until my breath, drawn out of me, I spew my liquid on my hands.

* * *

And just as quickly we begin to smile, and then laughter hits us. Up we go to clean ourselves and watch some dumb telly before we eat dinner.

* * *

One night, a few after the 'wanking affair' Sherlock and I are quietly in our chairs, each doing our own thing.

          "John, need to tell you something."

I put my laptop down and lean forward, giving him my full attention.

          "This business I started with a rewards system, it had a purpose."

I start to interrupt.

          "No," he raises his hand to ward off any remarks I might make.

          "I wanted to get more intimate, familiar with you, thinking this might break down your barriers, which it has."

* * *

A deep intake of breath and his hazel-blue green eyes pierce me.

          "Sherlock, no need to explain anything."

          "John, let me conclude this in the manner I desire. John Watson."

He reaches forward and collects both my hands in his,"will you be my boyfriend, my mate, my lover?"

Dumbfounded, dazed, I squeeze his hands and work my mouth into words.

          "Sherlock Holmes, all I can say at this moment is, fuck yes".


End file.
